Hans Moleman: [Lisa catches him and Lunchlady Doris at Holding Hands Point] We're just trying to rekindle our relationship.
Lunchlady Doris: In the sack, he's Salsbury steak. Everywhere else, creamed corn.
Selma Bouvier: I'd never thought I'd say this, but Homer Simpson, do me!
[Homer puts the shears to his throat]
Selma Bouvier: I meant my hair.
[Homer sighs in relief]
Marge Simpson: Well, Newsweek says it's good to change careers, right after they laid off all their editors.
Milhouse Van Houten: Lisa, I love you. Is that love requited or un?
Lisa Simpson: I'm sorry, Milhouse, but I don't love you and I never will.
Homer Simpson: One hundred dollars? Marge, how much is that in smackeroos?
Marge Simpson: A hundred.
Homer Simpson: Woo hoo!
Lisa Simpson: I don't get it. Why would a popular fifth grader like Taffy be into a Milhouse like Milhouse?
Bart Simpson: I dunno. It's just one of those mysteries, I guess. Like how do my clothes pick themselves up from the floor and fold themselves into my drawers.
Homer Simpson: Like Mozart and Johnny Knoxville, my genius cannot be stopped.
Marge Simpson: Oh, Homer, you make my toes curl. You really know how to please a woman.
Homer Simpson: As long as I don't have to lose weight or change my pants.
Marge Simpson: Homer, thanks to your unlicensed barbery, Patty and Selma have been getting compliments all day at the DMV.
Abraham Simpson: You two look good. Open-casket good!
Lindsay Naegle: I hear this is the home of Springfield's hottest hairdresser. I need a haircut, and I need it in 3-2-1 now!
Homer Simpson: Lady, I'm not a hairdresser, I just put a new lid on a couple of trash cans.
Bart Simpson: [Jumps in front of Lisa as she paints] Ha-ha! I ruined your painting!
Lisa Simpson: Bart, this isn't a photograph. I'm not going to paint you just because...
[Sees that she has painted in Bart]
Lisa Simpson: Augh! You just ruined six months work!
Bart Simpson: Gee, I'm really sorry... it wasn't a year!
Lisa Simpson: You're going to regret the day you were born!
Bart Simpson: I already do. It's too close to Christmas.
Selma Bouvier: You did this? With your fat fingers and brain the size of a superball?
[Cut to cross-section of Homer's head, showing brain bouncing around until it comes out his ear and bounces away]
Homer Simpson: And stay out!
Taffy: I love your poem. It was romantic, and it rhymed.
Milhouse Van Houten: Well, I used a rhyming dictionary, but it only gives you options. The job of the poet is to say, "this one, I guess."
Homer Simpson: All day long it's boring, endless talk, and I have to stand there with a phoney grin plastered on my face.
Moe: [phoney grin plastered on face] Uh-huh.